Brothers in Arms
by ElvenPirate41
Summary: Gabriel Van Helsing's and Vladislaus Valerious' history as the two hunters for the Knights of the Order.  Slash.
1. Prelude to a Life

Hello all Van Helsing fans! Since, in my humble opinion, Vlad/Gabriel is the most obvious pairing in VH, I decided to leave the realm of writing fluff for a time, and actually write something with plot. This will be slash - shouldn't be anything too heavy, but in the event that there might be anything which some people might not want to read, I will give a warning at the beginning of the chapter. You're safe for now, though. ;) The story will take place from their meeting to Vlad's murder. The writing may be slow-going, so bear with me on that account. Please enjoy, and thanks to ShelobTinuviel for a lovely beta/CC job!

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I. Prelude to a Life

They found me collapsed upon the steps of the church, rain-drenched and all but dead. I knew not how I got there, or why I felt so weak. My mind was empty save for two things: my name, and the knowledge that somehow I would find safety within the Vatican.

They took me in, and the cardinal took me under his wing. His name was Clemente, a short and intense but good-natured Spaniard who refused to let me leave even after I was well again. He asked me many strange questions, if I ever had any memories which I could not explain.

"Of course not," I told him. "Ought I to?"

He looked at me as if he did not take me seriously. "We'll see," he said, stroking his thin black beard. "You think on it, and we'll talk again in the morning."

As I slept that night, I dreamed of many strange things. There were no complete stories, no resolved conflicts, just bits and pieces of unfamiliar places and people – and monsters in abundance. I awoke, thoroughly unsettled, just as Clemente walked through the door.

"_Buenos dias_, my friend," he greeted me, pulling a chair up beside the bed. "How are we this morning?"

"I'm just splendid; don't know about you," I responded, half-growling out of frustration and confusion.

"Well enough, well enough." Despite his friendly countenance, he was not one to forsake business. "Any midnight revelations?" he inquired, almost facetiously.

I decided to be honest, and spoke, turning the thoughts over in my mind, still trying to make sense of them. "I dreamed all night of strange places, of people I've never seen before." I had hoped for answers, and when he did not respond I wondered if this was not what he wanted to hear. "I don't know if that means anything, but it's all I have for you."

He nodded, lost in thought, then took a deep breath and informed me that the signs were clear. I had given the name, and then proven myself to be Gabriel Van Helsing, the great monster-hunter of the Knights of the Order, who never truly died but always was reborn to continue to protect the world from evil.

I told him he was being absolutely ridiculous – I was no monster-hunter! and the dreams of the previous night had been enough to permanently turn me off to the idea.

"You do not believe me?" I shot him a rather cynical look, as though daring him to prove me wrong. "Very well." He rose from his chair and smoothed his red robes. "Even so, I would like to show you something which may be of interest to you. Here in the Vatican we have a great underground laboratory, which houses thousands of people, all workers for the Order. Perhaps to go down there would jar your memory?"

I was skeptical, but quickly dressed and went with him. We passed through halls lined with artifacts, and great chambers covered with frescoes depicting angels, until finally we reached the body of the church.

I made straight for the confessional, and was extremely surprised to find myself standing inside it as if I had been drawn by some unseen force, just as I had been drawn to the church itself. Clemente, not yet betraying any surprise, entered the other side. Suddenly he pulled a lever, and a secret staircase revealed itself.

If my original surprise had been great, then now it could be called shock. The cardinal asked with a twinkle in his eye if now I believed him. I told him I supposed I did – how else could I have known where to go?

Thus, Gabriel Van Helsing resumed his work for the Knights of the Holy Order.

I was sent on missions all over Europe, and all the knowledge I needed for traveling and slaying beasts came back to me. I would pick up a weapon and find that I already knew how to use it; suddenly I was a veritable treasure trove of information regarding all things unholy and how to kill them. Most of the work I did seemed nothing too challenging – warlocks and werewolves and such – but a stray vampire here or there kept me on my toes. I traveled all over the continent and even made my way across the sea to Africa a few times. Often I would reach a place and have the distinct impression that I had been there before. Yet it seemed that I was always alone. Whenever I passed, people would stare and then quickly look away, like they had heard of me and thought it best to keep out of my way. I would move like a shadow, doing my work as quietly as possible (often not very quietly at all) and then slipping away unhindered. When I returned to Rome, Clemente would always have a new task for me.

One time I spent several months in France, tracking down a group of particularly nasty warlocks. As so frequently seemed to be the case, I was not able to bring any of them back alive – and after all, who wants to travel hundreds of miles having to drag an irate warlock along? I was therefore expecting a rebuke from Clemente upon my return.

I did not get what I expected.

I arrived back at the Vatican to discover that Clemente was dead, having caught a nasty illness: an afterthought of the black plague. In his place was an older man with wiry grey hair, called Cardinal Grammen. He curtly explained to me what had happened. I said it was a pity, for Clemente was a good man. Grammen's response to this was that if he really was a good man, then he would have lived to be sixty; clearly God did not think such a man was fit to be doing His holy work. I kept rather quiet after that.

A few changes had occurred in my absence: deaths, births, breakthroughs. But the most noteworthy was a man who had come to aid the Order, having arrived just weeks after my departure to France. He was another hunter, the son of a Transylvanian count. His name was Vladislaus Valerious, which Grammen told me as though he thought it terribly rude of the man to have such a difficult name to pronounce. He did declare to me that there was something about this young nobleman that he did not like, but that he seemed to be a virtuous person. I was about to quip, "Judge ye not," but then thought better of it. While Clemente would have laughed and concurred, I had a feeling that this one would not.

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	2. The Transylvanian

II. The Transylvanian

"It is best for hunters to join forces," said Cardinal Grammen as he swept along before me. Scurrying monks and friars quickly got out of his way as we passed through the laboratory. "Therefore, I think you and Master Valerious ought to get acquainted." Here he stopped turned, and as I was only half-listening, I had to catch myself before walking into him. He raised a finger. "This Order is built on brotherhood, Gabriel."

"Of course," I said.

"We have never been blessed with two hunters before; we must not allow the two of you to become rivals. Let not your pride come before your work." He gave me a severe glance and then continued. I shook my head at his back before following.

We found the newcomer in a corner of the laboratory, poring over a diagram with one of the friars. Their backs were to us; from what little I could see, the drawing seemed to depict some sort of complex machinery, and they were discussing a design.

"Well, you see, my dear friar, if you simply add another gear here, it connects the two systems and—"

"Pardon my interruption," said Grammen. "Friar, if you would please leave us for a few moments." The mousy man nodded and scuttled away with the diagram folded awkwardly under his arm.

Before any more words could be said, the cardinal was already commencing introductions. "Master Valerious, may I introduce you to Gabriel Van Helsing, our greatest hunter."

He turned, and I looked upon him for the first time. He was handsome, I supposed, a little shorter than myself, and clad somberly. All his clothes were black and very fine. His eyes shone darkly from a pale face; his long black hair was pulled back, with a few shorter wisps hanging loose. He wore a heavy-looking ring on his right hand.

He smiled and bowed regally. "Vladislaus Valerious at your service." While the cardinal's pronunciation of his name made it sound terribly uncouth, it merely rolled off his tongue in a rich accent. I took a liking to him immediately, no doubt in part because the cardinal did not.

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The activity of unsavory creatures lessened significantly for a time after my return; therefore I was stuck in the Vatican, always under the scrutinizing eyes of Cardinal Grammen. Being neither a scholar nor a ridiculously devout man, there was little for me to do – little work for a hunter. Grammen took note of my inactivity, accused me of being slothful, and suggested I spend my days in prayer. Partly to appease him and partly in the genuine hope of finding solace, I tried it for a full day – all it gained me were two very sore knees. For a short time, the cardinal was pleased. But when he caught me aimlessly wandering the halls again two days later, he inquired:

"Why are you not spending your days doing something more gratifying? You ought to be thanking God for this reprieve He has given you from your labors."

"Maybe I have a reprieve because I made an example of those warlocks, and the monsters do not yet dare to make a move," I said pointedly.

He bristled. "Ach, you are as bad as that Valerious; not once since your meeting have I seen him before an altar on any day but a Sabbath either; I don't know what he could possibly have been doing in his chambers all this time..."

"Yes, yes... would you excuse me?" The cardinal's words had given me an idea. I hastened away and left him in the corridor, muttering to himself. Several minutes later, I knocked on the door of Vladislaus Valerious, thinking that I might at least get a little interesting conversation in my visit – anything had to be more interesting than Grammen's lecturing.

He opened the door and smiled. "Ah, Mr. Van Helsing. Please, do come in," he said cordially.

I entered into a sitting room, in which there were many unusual artifacts and decorations, presumably from his native Transylvania. There also were two wingback chairs. At his invitation I sat in one of them; he took the other, folding his hands and calmly leaning forward.

"To what may I attribute this unexpected visit?" he asked pleasantly.

"What do you think of Cardinal Grammen?" I asked bluntly, deciding that it really was a satisfactory answer to his question.

He waved his hand dismissively, the silver on his ring flashing. "He means well, I am sure. Yet there is a saying in Transylvania: he is like dragon piss – it sounds fancy, but in the end it's just piss like anyone else's."

I could not help grinning at the intriguing comparison. "Oh, don't spare your feelings; tell me what you really think."

He gave a short, quiet laugh. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, he doesn't seem to care for you very much. Just minutes ago he was saying you aren't devout enough... I do hope your feelings aren't hurt."

He frowned slightly, making small creases appear in his forehead. "I always attend the mass... perhaps the dear cardinal's sight is suffering. All things aside, however, I do not have to spend twenty-four hours a day in prayer in order to worship."

I shrugged. "You certainly are not alone; he said the same thing of me."

The nobleman shook his head. "Cardinal Grammen knows nothing except that which fits into the confines of his position. As I said, I believe he has good intentions, but he is too short-sighted to allow them to manifest properly." He paused, and suddenly rose.

"My sincerest apologies, friend, I have not offered you a drink. I must not allow you to think that Transylvanians are not gracious."

"Thanks very much; I think I could use a drink."

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I learned rather a lot about Vlad (as he insisted I call him – he was endlessly amused by the cardinal's apparent irritation over his consonant-laden name) over the next two and a half weeks. He was deeply committed to ridding the world of the evil creatures the Order sought to destroy, yet his respect for Grammen could be considered minimal at best. He had gained some recognition for his single-handed disposal of a goblin colony, but he modestly told me that he would never attain my fine reputation. In other cases, though, he was a proud man who would not suffer insult, as I saw with his opinions of the cardinal. I spent most of those weeks in his company, as his was the only company I actually found enjoyable. He told me of Transylvania, of its nearly perpetual cold and its unusual people. One day he tired of being the storyteller, and asked me of my past or if I had any family.

I told him the truth.

"So you do not remember anything?" he said with intent, leaning forth in his chair. "How terrible."

I sighed. "They say it is out of kindness; they say I have done all this before. I suppose I shall be doing the same work forever."

"To live forever," he mused quietly, "with your hands tied to this duty, this Order. Or, to live forever, but all on your own to do what you will. I wonder which would be the worse fate. For on the one hand, you are in chains, yet not without purpose; and on the other, you have your freedom, yet with time, life would eventually lose meaning and direction." He looked up at me. "I do not envy you your fate, Gabriel."

Vlad often said such comforting things; I began to wonder if all Transylvanians had these dismal moments. He possessed a marvelously shrewd mind for machinery, something I lacked. But he also had a sense of humor which often threatened to send me into peals of laughter at the most inopportune moments – for example, once the cardinal was speaking to me when Vlad passed. He mouthed "dragon's piss" as he walked by, forcing me to suddenly begin to cough violently.

It was refreshing to have a friend amid the staunchness of the Order, and it was a welcome surprise when Grammen sent us on an assignment together. He claimed it was because it was a two-man job; Vlad said it was because he just wanted to be rid of us.

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Thanks to JK, Mike, and Carveus666 for your reviews! Anyone else care to leave one for this chapter? And by the way, ST- you still owe me those cookies! ;) 


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